


Not Missing You So Much

by Lyrstzha



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Comment Fic, Established Relationship, Flash Fic, M/M, Missing Scene, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-21
Updated: 2006-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrstzha/pseuds/Lyrstzha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this missing scene from the episode "The Return, Part One", John is just a bit snitty about Rodney's claiming not to miss him so much during their telephone conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Missing You So Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [panisdead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panisdead/gifts).



> Missing scene from "The Return, Part One". Set after John picks up Rodney at the airport, but before they go to dinner with Elizabeth and Carson.

Rodney, though he'd kept talking in a relentlessly steady stream from the moment he'd gotten off the plane about completely normal topics, somehow still managed to convey a sense of anxiety in the way he carefully talked _at_ John rather than _to_ him; it was like he was being warily careful not to leave any space for John in the conversation at _all_, and that rarely happened unless he was worried about what John might say.

John, for his part, had been using one of his more aloof slouches ever since he'd picked Rodney up. Which, he figured, was almost certainly what fueled the continuing barrage of linguistic cover-fire from the passenger side of his car.

All in all, the drive from the airport hadn't seemed quite so long the last time they'd done this.

Finally, halfway through a sentence about the appalling ignorance of his assistants and the tragic lack of caffeine in white chocolate, Rodney broke off, with barely a quick intake of breath, to say, "Hey, you _hung up_ on me the other day. What's up with that? Only one of us gets to be rude, and I think we both know that it's me."

John kept his eyes on the highway, but Rodney could surely see the challenging tilt of his head even in profile. "Yeah, well, _you_ said you didn't miss me so much, so I didn't think you'd _notice_."

Rodney stared and poked John in the shoulder like he was testing to see if John was a hallucination. "Oh my god, are you seriously telling me that you're in a snit just because I said I didn't miss you that much?" He rolled his eyes and gestured energetically with his hands as if he was attempting to land a particularly confused plane with them. "It's not like I wouldn't miss you if I didn't talk to you every day! And do I not fly up here every other weekend? What are you, a 12-year-old girl?"

John slanted a narrow-eyed glance over at Rodney. "You really never want to get laid again, do you?"

A moment of silence ticked through the car.

"...okay, fine, I missed you. I missed you so much. I sleep with one of your shirts, I write your initials on all my notebooks, and I'm thinking of having your name tattooed on my ass." Rodney finished in an annoyed, huffing noise, his chin jerking aggressively to punctuate 'ass' with all the gravity it deserved.

John blinked in a slow, thoughtful sweep of eyelashes, and quirked a small, quiet smile without looking away from the road. "You are _so_ lucky that I've learned to find sarcasm attractive." The sun came out in his tone, winter changing to languid summer in the bare space of two sentences. "And that I've been wondering where that shirt went."

Rodney twitched in John's peripheral vision. "Oh. Um." He cleared his throat. "It must have gotten into my suitcase by accident."

John's small smile curled up until it flashed teeth, and he reached out to punch Rodney's shoulder lightly. "Welcome to the seventh grade, Rodney. Wanna go home and make MASH notes?"

"_Please_ tell me that's a euphemism." But his mouth didn't have that thin, slanted cant it got when he was really complaining about something, and Rodney's fingers stroked over John's thigh across the curve of muscle in a slow, familiar pattern that might not have shaped actual words, but was perfectly comprehensible to John just the same.


End file.
